Travels, Torture, and Templars
by Wolfy of the Winds
Summary: Templar!Leo has captured the sneaky assassin, but whose side is he really on? mild Ezio/Leo
1. Chapter 1

A/N: here's another one I've been cajoled into posting (jkiluguys) |D. Dunno how many parts it'll end up being, but there's still a bit left to go before I'm done. Just too tired to finish typing tonight. Hopefully I'll have the rest of it up this weekend.

* * *

The assassin gasped, struggling to breathe, desperately scrabbling to remove the armored boot on his neck. Spots were dancing across his vision as he felt the world around him dim.

"Stop!"

Consciousness rushed back to Ezio as the boot was lifted from his throat, and he lay gasping on the cobbled ground. As his abused lungs hoarded all oxygen that passed them, he did not notice the chains being put around his ankles and wrists. And when he did, even when he did, his limbs were too weak to respond appropriately. Indeed, it took a moment before the assassin suddenly thought he knew that voice, amidst the spinning world around him.

"Remember, Borgia wants him alive," the person continued.

"Yes sir," the brutes dragging Ezio to his feet grumbled.

"L-Leonardo?" Ezio cried, struggling to make sense of the situation, to see why it was really his artist here, and why the guards were listening, _obeying_ him.

The artist turned cold, unfeeling eyes to the assassin, who had not ever seen this expression before on his Leonardo, and he shivered. Those blue eyes that Ezio had been so in live with glinted with an unreadable emotion, that the assassin felt he _needed_ to understand. As the guards pulled him away, half-carrying, half-dragging him, he couldn't help but mouth a soft, betrayed, "Why?" to the artist. Leonardo merely shook his head sadly and turned away.

Down in the darkness, where the assassin's body was fettered to a wall, his mind reeled in circles, aimlessly, hopelessly. Why? Why, why, why, _why_? Was Leonardo a Templar, allied to the Borgia, a liar? Impossible. His exhausted mind refused to believe it. Out of everything that had fallen apart in his life, Leonardo had been the one constant, the one who was always there for him. The one who he loved and had thought loved him in return. It was true that Leonardo had caused the brutes to cease their almost-successful attempts on asphyxiating him, but why had they listened? Something strange was afoot for guards not to question the 'artist's' word. Ezio hung his head, held to the wall by his wrists. Even as the door to his cell opened, he did not move, his bare chest marred by old scars and new wounds, both from torture and the battle.

"Ezio." The statement was quiet, and the door was shut behind the intruder.

"_Leonardo_." The assassin's voice was cold, hard, a perfect mask to disguise the thoughts and emotions broiling underneath.

"You're still alive," he said, sounding relieved. Ezio raised his head, eyes narrowed in an attempt to trap away any emotions behind them.

"Why?" the assassin asked, voice nearly cracking. "_Why_ did they listen to you?" He did not know if he wanted an answer.

"Rodrigo Borgia asked for a few commissions from me. His men have learned my face."

"But they took your _orders_!" Ezio was desperate, needed to know that the only thing he depended on was not a lie also.

"If I told Borgia that they had killed you, he would have their heads."

"Look me in the eyes and tell me truly, are you a Templar?" Ezio gazed at Leonardo; that desperate question hung in the air. With the growing silence, every passing moment, the assassin was sure that the bottom had fallen out of his world.

"No," the 'artist' finally replied. "I am my own entity, belonging wholly to neither the Assassins nor the Templars." Ezio's heart had risen painfully high with relief before freezing. "I am usually considered an ally by both sides." The assassin's heart twisted.

"Am I just a toy then, a game, and experiment?" he spat.

"No!" But even to Leonardo it was too quick a reply. "No…you know that I do not condone any such cruelty."

"I thought I did. I don't know what to think anymore…" Ezio watched as pain glimmered across the artist's features, and he was touched with a dark joy. "I don't know you anymore," he shook his head harshly. "You won't get me to talk. I'll never tell you Templars where the Apple and Staff are."

"I…that's not what I'm here for, Ezio."

"Oh really? What for, then? To shatter anything I ever believed in, tell me that everything is a lie, that you never really loved me?" Ezio strained against the chains that held him back, rewarding him nothing for his efforts but redoubled pain.

"N-no…"

"Why don't you just kill me now?"

"Ezio! You know that I could never kill you."

"At least I'd die loving you. Everything that mattered to me wouldn't have been blown out like a candle." The assassin's voice cracked, and he looked away, to the ground.

"Ezio, _caro mio_," Leonardo frowned as the assassin flinched, "_ti amo_." It hurt the artist to see Ezio clench his eyes shut. "I used to work for them, before I met you. Borgia does not know that I am close to you. I…they wouldn't let me refuse to work for them, for inasmuch they would assume that I am allied to you and would have killed you instantaneously.

"Are you lying to me?" the assassin finally asked, looking up. '_Because I couldn't take it if you are_,' he finished in his thoughts. Leonardo steadily held his gaze, and Ezio waited, tense in the metal arms that restrained him.

"No." The assassin hung his head in relief, feeling a burning pressure in his eyes that he was not accustomed to. "I promise, I'm not lying. I could never lie to you."

Ezio watched as his vision blurred and dots darkened the stone floor. "So your hand was forced?"

"Yes. Besides, I knew that I could spy for you if I worked for Borgia." Leonardo stepped across the gap between the two and lifted the assassin's chin with a hand beneath it, caressing his face. "Are…are you crying?" Ezio smiled wearily and shook his head, spattering the droplets on the ground. With gentle fingers, the artist brushed away his tears. "What have they done to you, _caro_?"

"Many, many things. But I'll never talk, now." Ezio's resolve had strengthened once more, now that he still had someone to protect. Leonardo sighed fondly, still holding the assassin's face.

"I shall see what I can do to arrange an opening for escape for you."

"They won't kill me until they know where the Apple and Staff are. Unless of course I frustrate Rodrigo until he decides to fix his mistake in not killing me."

"Still. I do not like to see you wounded from their torture."

"They won't break me, not now that I know you are not deceiving me." He smiled wearily and the artist's eyes narrowed in worry.

"I must go now. I'll try to come back soon. _Ti amo_," he murmured, pulling away slowly. Casting one last glance back, Leonardo turned and straightened, knocking loudly on the door, bringing the guards to open the iron monstrosity from the other side of the hall, forcing them to leave their card game. Ezio hung his head, the picture of a defeated assassin, and the guards snorted, holding their lances tightly.

"Looks like you beat him down," one of the guards said, laughing derisively. Leonardo raised an eyebrow in amusement, turning slightly to look at Ezio, he alone spotting the smirk on the assassin's face.

"Perhaps. All you have to do is push the right buttons. Quite intriguing." He stepped out of the cell, waiting for the guards to shut the door before walking away with them, chatting amiably.

It wasn't long before Rodrigo returned with his lackeys, one of them carrying a whip, the others heavily armed. "Ready to talk yet, Ezio?" Borgia asked, a dark sneer on his face.

"Never," the assassin spat. "I'll be dead before I tell _you_ anything."

"You'll change your mind soon enough." Raising a heavily jeweled hand, he gestured the guard with the whip forward. Aforementioned guard raised his weapon with a feral grin.

"This is for each of my comrades that you have slain," he hissed, before ringing the whip cruelly down on the assassin's chest, causing a soft cry to escape him as his back pressed into the rock wall, reopening recent wounds. The guard continued whipping him, watching his expression of agony with a great joy. Borgia watched on coldly.

"Where is the Apple?"

"Gone. I ate it," Ezio replied, grinning darkly.

* * *

_Ti amo_ - I love you

_Caro mio_ - My dear

Is there anything I missed? |D;

Grrr, was ignoring my separation of story and A/N. :c sorry about that.


	2. Chapter 2

"Did you eat the Staff too?" Rodrigo snarled. "Don't play games with me, Assassin!" The whip cracked as it was slammed onto Ezio's wounded skin, breaking it in more than one place. The assassin cried out, his head thrown back. "Where. Are. The. Apple. And. Staff?" the leader of the Templars asked again, each word punctuated by another crack of the whip.

"Why should I tell you?"

"We can easily make your death slow and painful."

"I'd rather die by my own blade than tell you bastards anything!" Ezio hissed, the wounds in his back and chest hurting beyond belief.

"It seems that it may come down to that. We'll see how loyal you truly are to your cause then," He waved the guard forward one last time, calling for another crack of the whip, listening to Ezio's pained cry. "See you tomorrow, Assassin scum," the armed man snarled, leaving with his master.

As the door swung shut, Ezio relaxed, his shoulders falling from their defiant state. Blood poured freely from his ruined chest, and the assassin felt himself slip into unconsciousness.

The heavy iron door slammed open, startling Ezio out of his light sleep. His muscles tensed instinctively – not without a burst of pain – before relaxing when he saw that it was Leonardo. The artist pulled off his hat and bundled it up, using it as a door stop to keep the cell door from locking them in.

"Leonardo?" Ezio rasped questioningly, not even trying to keep himself up, the only things stopping him from crumpling to the ground being his chains.

"Shh, Ezio. We're going to get you out of here."

"You're coming too…aren't you?"

"I can't. I need to keep up the pretense of working for Borgia."

"I…I wouldn't make it to the walls of this cursed Vatican without…you." The assassin coughed, ignoring the dribble of blood on the corner of his lips. Leonardo appeared troubled, and he frowned. "And I can't knowingly leave you…here…"

"Alright. I'll come with you."

"We should be save in _Firenze_, or _Venezia_."

"Come. Let's get you out of those chains." Leonardo took the keys that hung by the door and unlocked first the chains holding the assassin's ankles, and then his wrists. When the second wrist was free, he fell forward into the artist's arms, moaning softly. "What have they done to you,_ caro mio_?" Ezio shook his head softly. "I have your armor, on the grounds that I wanted to study it, and it is in my horse's bags. For now, I have monks' habits for the both of us. We just need to get out of here." Supporting the assassin with an arm around his waist and Ezio's arm over his shoulder, he pulled his hat from the door, opening it silently. The guards on the other side of the hall and around the corner were gambling as well as drinking, absolutely positive that the assassin would not escape. The two slunk silently in the opposite direction, up a set of rarely used stairs. By the time they reached the top, Leonardo was all but carrying Ezio as he moved his feet. "The habits are hidden right here." Reaching behind a stone bench, the artist pulled out two dark brown cloaks. After shrugging himself into one, Leonardo turned and helped the wounded assassin – who he had sat on the bench – nearly flinching when he heard Ezio's whimper of unimaginable agony. Finally, the assassin was well enough disguised to pass off as a believer, servant to the Vatican, and the two set off once more. Ezio leaned heavily on the artist, and it seemed to be years before they reached the stables. Leonardo gently led the exhausted assassin to one of the more heavily built horses, nearly pulling Ezio onto the animal before quickly mounting behind him, arms gently around the wounded eagle's chest, wary of his injuries.

"We'll be safe soon, _amore mio_," Leonardo murmured reassuringly, spurring the horse out to the gates, watching warily as the guards stared them down, before hesitantly waving them through. Ezio finally went limp in the artist's arms as they left the walled palace behind, barely hearing the raised alarm of, "The Assassin has escaped!" Leonardo struggled for a moment to hold the assassin's deadweight up, until he was in a good position to support him without putting undue pressure on his wounds.

They rode through the night and into the day, stopping only once to change horses. At this stop, Leonardo donned his normal clothes once more, putting his hat on with a sense of relief. He helped Ezio back into his assassin outfit, promising to tend to him when they reached the ships; they didn't have time then.

Ezio was relaxed, limp in his supporting arms, head resting on the artist's shoulder, his face scrunched in pain. It twisted Leonardo's heart to see the cold, uncaring assassin so weak, and the only reason he allowed his pain to show was because of his utter trust in the artist. This was why he could never betray his assassin, why he had inwardly refused Borgia's order to break him immediately: because out of everyone, Ezio had picked Leonardo to be the only person he put his guard down around.

The assassin whimpered as a particularly rough bump caused his clothes to tug on his wounds, effectively startling Leonardo out of his reverie.

"Ezio? Are you alright?" the artist asked worriedly, slowing the horse down.

"Mmngh."

"We'll stop in the next town," he reassured. "Just hang in there."

* * *

A/N: A bit shorter than last chapter, but this was a good place to stop, sooo yeah |D

I think there's going to be one more part for this story, and then I can move on to the next.

By the way, just a little fact for all my readers, I always finish a story before typing it up, so this story is actually complete, it's just waiting to be typed up. :3 You won't ever have to wait weeks and weeks for a story if I've already started it. XD

_Caro mio_ - my dear

_Amore mio - _my love

Reviews are always appreciated~!


	3. Chapter 3

When they finally stopped, Leonardo dismounted and had to hurry to catch Ezio as he slid sideways off the sadly. The artist grunted and staggered as the assassin moaned quietly.

"Sirs, are you alright?" the stableboy asked, rushing over to help.

"Do you happen to have a stretcher? My friend is terribly hurt and I don't think I can carry him without hurting him more."

"Just a moment," the boy called, before sprinting out and returning a few minutes later with two burly men carrying a well-used stretcher between them. The set it down beside the artist – who was still holding Ezio up from under his arms – and they helped Leonardo lay the assassin on the stretcher.

"Do you have a _dottore _here?" the artist asked as the men gently picked up the stretcher.

"One of the best," one of the men replied, taking Ezio out and heading into the town. Leonardo followed, jogging to keep up, and they entered a small house smelling of incense, where a young girl with feathers in her hair looked up from her work, mildly irritated by the interruption. This annoyance evaporated a moment later when her eyes alighted on Ezio.

"What happened here?" she asked, rushing over, her light gold hair flowing over her back. Leonardo pursed his lips, unsure of how to answer.

"This man rode in with his injured friend not ten minutes ago," one of the stretcher-carriers answered instead.

"Thank you, the both of you. If you could set him down on that table, I can get to work," she said, going ahead and clearing off the table before grabbing rags and a bucket of warm water.

"Anytime, milady," the other big man replied with a teasing smirk. She rolled her eyes and shooed them out, before turning to Leonardo.

"What _really _happened?" she asked, an eyebrow raised in suspicion, as she set to work attempting to take off Ezio's shirt. She glared at the assassin's garbs when she could not figure out where to start.

"Allow me," Leonardo murmured, beginning to work on the hidden clasps and ties, all of whose locations had long been memorized. Finally the artist spoke again, replying to her earlier question. "Torture." The girl's eyebrows rose as she pulled a salve off from where it was heating over the fire.

"For information, or a crime?"

"Is this necessary information?" Leonardo shot back, wary when his friend was so vulnerable.

"Perhaps, perhaps not. However, I _do_ need to know which patients I should keep quiet about then the guards swing around, imposing themselves on our home."

"Both. They have been after my friend for some time." The assassin's upper body was finally revealed, the vests and blouse thrown to the side. Leonardo's brow furrowed in worry at the extent of the wounds, now revealed in proper light.

"Where…where are we?" Ezio rasped, eyes cracking open as cold air gusted over his bare chest. His head was turned to the side as he lay, his bloody hands clenched, his wrists raw.

"We're safe for now,_ amico mio_," the artist replied soothingly, brushing Ezio's bangs away from his face.

"Whose bad side did you two get on?" the young doctor asked wryly, hiding shock. Any other person would have been long dead with such wounds. This man _should_ be dead, if she had learned anything over the years.

"Powerful men," Leonardo replied, refusing to elaborate.

"He…I don't know what I can do for him. I'm amazed that he's still alive…most men would not be."

"He is not most men," the artist replied, gaze softening as it fell on Ezio.

"I'll do what I can."

"That's all I…that we… can ask for. Do you need any help?"

"Just hold the bandages near, and hold him down. This will hurt." Leonardo moved behind the assassin and placed his hands over any unwounded skin on Ezio's shoulders that he could find, gently and firmly holding him in place. The girl pulled out the gauze and handed it to the artist, who obediently placed it near where she would work. She set to cleaning his wounds of all the dried blood that had accumulated and caked, barely responding to Ezio's cries except to lightly soften the pressure she put on them.

Long through the day and into dusk did they work, until the medic-girl had to order the artist to one of her cots, so exhausted and worried sick did he look.

Through the night and into the next morning the candles remained lit, until even they burned out and the crackling fire and coming dawn were the only sources of light. The girl wiped her forehead and sank into a chair, her work finally done. It was up to the wounded man now to finish healing. As her eyes slid shut, she could have sworn she saw the artist get up, but she couldn't be sure what was real and what was not any longer.

* * *

In the daylight, as she was cleaning up her now-empty home, the girl found a pouch of gold coins on the foreign man's cot, along with a note to go with it.

_Thank you for all your help and perseverance, especially when I could no longer keep my eyes open. My friend will pull through – he always does. I hope the money I left is enough for your services and supplies, as well as a little extra for you. I did not want to wake you to ask. _

_ We sincerely apologize if the guards harass your village about us, but I think your two friends would be more than a match for them._

_ Sincerely, _

_ A grateful stranger_

_P.S. My apologies about the lack of names, it would be safer for everyone if you did not know us._

_

* * *

_

___dottore_ - doctor

_amico mio_ - my friend

A/N: And there you have it~! Shortest chapter, but it takes up the most space, lawl. Dialogue mostly |D;; So yeah, we'll see. I'm not positive if I'm going to post up "A Dousing in Blood" or "Letters To and From an Assassin" (unless I get a bunch of people asking for them) so until I finish "Up In Flames" (title still under work), I probably won't post up another story unless I decide to put up "Traitor" or "Enemy of an Assassin" (both found on my dA |D;). Soo yeah.

Reviews are always appreciated~!


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